


The World Still Spins

by DoreyG



Category: Captain America (Movies), Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Confessions, Crossover, M/M, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reunions, Treat, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 16:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: "I have to say," Nightingale said, a faint smile curving his lips as he rested his head back against the wall, "despite the situation, Iamglad to see you alive and well.""Same," he replied, and briefly left off pacing the room to send the man a genuine smile, "though I've gotta say, I didn't expect to see youthisalive and well."





	The World Still Spins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).



"I have to say," Nightingale said, a faint smile curving his lips as he rested his head back against the wall, "despite the situation, I _am_ glad to see you alive and well."

"Same," he replied, and briefly left off pacing the room to send the man a genuine smile, "though I've gotta say, I didn't expect to see you _this_ alive and well."

Nightingale, who looked if anything a little younger than he had back in the war, let his smile curve a little larger. Glanced away briefly, before he gave the smallest shrug and turned back to meet his eyes, "you know how there were several subjects we didn't discuss in our time together?"

"Yes," he said, because denying it would've been a disservice to both of them, "are we going to continue not to discuss them?"

"At this time, such a policy would seem rather futile," Nightingale said delicately, and spread his arms as if to indicate the room where they were unaccountably stuck, "considering that we're trapped together, with no obvious way to get out."

"Nothing like a makeshift prison cell to encourage confidences." He grinned, despite himself.

"Quite," Nightingale said, and studied him for a moment longer, "and also considering that I think you've already guessed what exactly I was carefully failing to mention, back then."

"Maybe a little. The shape of it, if nothing else," he admitted. Didn't hesitate, before finally giving up his restless circuit and strolling over to throw himself down by Nightingale's side, "we're not trapped in this room because of cosmic shit, or alien shit, or even superhero shit for that matter. That only leaves a few options."

"Such as?" Nightingale asked, turned his head to give him an amused look.

"Magical shit," he said, fairly easily, and met Nightingale's amused look with his own, "and considering your total lack of surprise, and those books that I used to walk in on you reading sometimes, I'm guessing you have something to do with it."

"I didn't trap us here," Nightingale protested, but gently, "if that's what you-"

"Of course that's not what I mean." He snorted, smirked at Nightingale until the man gave a faintly bashful smile and dropped his head, "what I _mean_ is that you're magical too, which is why you're showing a total lack of surprise over all this."

"You know," Nightingale said, still smiling - and blushing! God, the guy still blushed like a teen debutante - at his hands, "if I'd known you'd take it this well, I probably _would've_ told you back then."

"To be fair, I probably wouldn't have taken it this well if you had," he admitted, felt his own smile drop off his face without any real effort from him, "I've... Seen a lot of shit since we last met. Cosmic, alien, superhero, magical and just plain messed-up human. All terrible, but damn if it hasn’t led to personal development."

Nightingale remained silent for a long moment, seemed to be studying him without actually looking up, "is that why _you_ look so alive and well?"

"Yeah," he said, and huffed out a breath. Tried, maybe a touch desperately, to summon back the grin that'd fled, "and why I have the robot arm."

"I had noticed," Nightingale said wryly, casting the chrome an interested glance that he was _totally_ going to follow up on at some point in the very near future, "despite what my apprentice may say-"

"Your _apprentice_?" He asked, with perhaps a slightly unholy level of delight.

"-I do still have some skills of observation, I'm just polite enough not to use them all the time," Nightingale finished with dignity, raised his chin with mock solemnity... And then shot him an actually serious glance, one that cut right past the bravado and down to the bone, "do you want to talk about it?"

"I-" He hesitated for a second, blew out a shaky breath, "not really, at the moment? It's still all jumbled up in my head, so tangled together that I'm not really sure _what_ to do with it. I'm alright now, I actually feel like _me_ , but I can't help but... Well, _worry_."

Nightingale nodded, silently.

"Some days," He said, narrowly winning against the urge to dig the nails of his human hand into his flesh just to feel the bite of something _real_ , "I don't feel like me. Some days, I'm _not_ me. And I'm worried that by talking about it-"

"This good day will become one of those days," Nightingale said, perfectly understanding, and sent him a soothing smile - one that settled warmly in his gut, wrapped around him like a blanket, "as odd as it feels to refer to a day where we're trapped in a magical room with no obvious escape as a _good_ day."

"Weird times." He forced a laugh, so glad of the reprieve that he felt almost on the edge of tears.

"Quite," Nightingale said, and turned back to him with a faintly wicked smile curving his lips. The kind of smile that sent another bolt of warmth through him, lazier and settling between his legs like a caress, "do you remember what we used to do in weird times?"

"When it wasn't the type of situation for talking?" He pursed his lips in mock thought for a moment, but couldn't hold the expression for any longer. A grin was already bursting out across his face, irresistible and buzzing, "I might have some recollection. A very faint one, though, nothing _exact_ or anything."

"What a pity," Nightingale said, eyes glowing with something joyous and hot, and leaned in towards him, "let me see if I can't jog your memory for you."

And as their lips met, he was pretty sure he hadn't been so happy to be alive and well in _decades_.


End file.
